I just came back from visiting a friend overseas recently. We were in Brisbane, Australia for about a week. The trip was mainly part of an annual holiday trip we do among four of us, whom we consider our closest friends. But it was also chance to visit another country, to observe another culture, another way of life.
So many people we know have chosen to migrate overseas. Some to Europe, others to the US, but most of them look towards Australia. It’s not too far away from Malaysia, it has a sizable Asian community, the country is fully developed, and seemingly immigrants aren’t so discriminated against. Perhaps I was missing out on something? Perhaps there was something that I didn’t know about? Perhaps I was ignorant towards the better things on offer in other countries. I wanted to see it for myself.
Most people I’ve spoken to who’ve chosen to migrate say that it’s the quality of life they’re after. They say the pace of life in a developing Asian society is unhealthy and taxing. Unhealthy foods, long work hours, consumer driven, money driven. They say it’s not the way life is supposed to be lived. They tell me Western society is more about living a balanced life. You sip coffee, you go to the beach, you read a book, you go on summer holidays, you eat salads, you take public transport you attend live musicals and you bring your own bag shopping for groceries. There’s this whole romantic idea that living in a developed country will always better than living in a just-growing-up land such as Malaysia. And in many ways, it’s true. There indeed are many things about living in a first world country that can never be matched by us for many more decades.
But what about here? What about home? Isn’t there anything at all at home that would also prompt you to want to stay? Someone made a remark to me that all those people migrating over there, probably had something they were running away from over here. As oppose to the common thinking that migrating was more about running towards something that was over there. And in many ways I think this is true too. I’ve heard complaints from people living overseas that the cost of living is also rising, their economy is in recession, jobs aren’t that easy to find, and their dollar doesn’t quite go the mile it used to. Isn’t that what we complain about here too? Life ‘over there’ isn’t necessarily as rosy as it sounds.
Sitting over lunch with a colleague that spent 5 years in Sydney, I asked him why he came back while so many others were trying to get out. And he asked back “Don’t you think life in Malaysia is so much better?” I wouldn’t know. I haven’t spend enough time overseas to agree or disagree. A lot of people say they want their kids to have a better life overseas. But I look at them and say “Look at you. Didn’t YOU grow up here. You turned out fine. What makes you think you children will not?”
But to me, it isn’t so much a debate about which place is better than the other. Everyone, even myself, would go to a better place if it were that simple.
To me, the real question was – where is home to you?
I can never understand how someone can spend their whole lives living in one country and still feel like home is supposed to be somewhere else. No doubt things might be nicer or better elsewhere, but to me it isn’t home. If someone else’s mother or wife is so much pleasant than yours, do you then want theirs instead of the one you have? This country is yours. This home is yours. You are part of that home. It is your birthright. Is it something to give up just like that?
I ask myself if I could ever foresee myself leaving. And the honest answer, even for me is yes. Yes, I could leave this country. I wouldn’t want to. And I wouldn’t want to want to. But I could. If ever I’m no longer welcomed in my own home that is; if ever life here becomes unbearable to me or my family. Yet, even then, home will still be here. Everywhere else would always be something….. adopted.
Strolling by the long sandy beaches of the Gold Coast with my friend at night, we talked about these things. Why she decided to come. Why she didn’t want to stay. Why she wouldn’t go home. How much she enjoyed the beach, the relaxed life, the culture.
“You could come here easily you know. They’d take the two of you in a heartbeat.” she said.
“I know. I could…. But I won’t. For as long as I can help it, I want to stay in Malaysia. If there is still a chance to make a good living back in Malaysia, I will want to take that chance. I love life back home.” I replied.
“You see, that’s something I can’t say. I can’t say I love life back home. THAT’s why I’m here.”
I guess that’s the difference.
Where we love is home, Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven
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